Sandburg's Cat
by noenigma
Summary: The colonel undergoes a Trial by Mist to save the lives of his team.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This one I really enjoyed writing and loved how it came together. I didn't set out to write anything in particular, just came up with that first line which I liked and the rest just followed. Wish they all came so easy…_

 _Disclaimer: Purely for fan purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

The mist that flowed around his knees slunk towards his teammates like Sandburg's cat. It swirled around them and made them appear ghostly and insubstantial. "Hey," he yelled out, "you said it would be me...I'm the one you said would be tested!" but his teammates, dissipating into the fog, stood silent and uncomplaining. The mist curled around him and climbed up him, its cool, moist taste of early morning reaching into his mouth and down into his lungs. His instincts were to fight against it, but he'd brought himself to this. He drew in a large mouthful and waited for what must come next.

Carter angrily watched him disappearing into the mist. She could almost hear him say, "Well, this isn't good," as it separated him from them and obscured him from their view. How many times, she wondered, how many times had he chosen the high road in the hopes they'd be safe on the low? He would have roundly cursed any of them for placing themselves in danger, but he was all too eager to get there himself. Why couldn't he live by the practices he demanded of them? Why did he have to sacrifice himself for them? She was afraid to glance at her teammates, afraid if she took her eyes off of him he'd be lost to her forever.

Daniel was just as unhappy with the situation. He wished Jack would learn being the commanding officer didn't make him the one ideally suited to face each challenge. Surely this was one of those times. The mist would try the heart of the one chosen they'd been told. Well, considering Jack O'Neill had hidden his heart so deeply he couldn't even find it himself, he probably was the least suited of them all. Give Jack a p-90, some C4, and a grenade or two and turn him loose, but the last place he needed to be was in an elaborate labyrinth of emotions. Daniel worried Jack's dislike of what he'd find would be enough to destroy him if he actually did meet himself in the mist.

Teal'c fought back his own feeling of dismay watching O'Neill fade into the fog. Not that he doubted him. He knew his friend's heart was true. He'd seen that seconds before saying, "Many have said that," and changing everything by following O'Neill against his god and his people. Yes, O'Neill's heart was true. However, the danger came because O'Neill himself doubted that fact. O'Neill had made choices no man could feel comfortable with just as Teal'c himself had. But Teal'c was certain his path was right. He'd seen true evil in the Goa'uld, and it was not him. O'Neill had no such certainty. The line between what he saw as evil, and what he himself would do to fight that evil was too fine. It was as obscure as O'Neill's figure in the fog. Teal'c feared O'Neill's doubts would skew the results the wrong way in the test he was now facing.

Despite their concerns for their commander and friend, his teammates were helpless to stop what was happening. He'd ordered them to stand down. They stared into the fog hiding him from them and could do nothing but wait. The aliens of p3C-836 settled onto their haunches and waited as well.

"How long will this take?" Daniel asked them.

They shrugged in answer. "Only your colonel can determine that," they said calmly. Everything they did was in unison as though they were separate parts of one whole. They had fascinated him when they'd first met them, but now he no longer cared if they were somehow joined telepathically or otherwise. He wanted them to just go away and let them all off their planet. He'd gladly tell the general to lock the dialing coordinates out of the computer. They appeared benign, but the clutching in his gut insisted their 'Trial by Mist' was malignant and carried great harm with it.

"What will happen?" Sam asked them.

Again they shrugged. "That, too, is up to your colonel. He will prove his heart is true and survive the mist or he will die. And then so will you." They looked directly at her, "Do you not believe his heart is true?"

She didn't flinch before answering, "He won't fail."

"Then we will have much to offer you in your fight against the Goa'uld," they said, shrugging again. And then, though to the travelers from Earth nothing seemed to be happening, they said "The test begins."

O'Neill waited impatiently for something to happen but nothing did. He stared angrily into the mist for a moment longer, striving to make out the dim outlines of his teammates but failing. "Teal'c, Carter, Daniel?" he called out, but there was no answer. He began to step towards where they had stood, but the farther he moved away the more he lost himself as though he'd become ungrounded and parts of him were drifting away. His awareness of himself as Colonel Jack O'Neill, commander of SG-1; as Colonel Jack O'Neill of the United States Air Force; as Jack O'Neill, husband and father; as Jack O'Neill, a raw recruit in the Armed Forces; as the youth he'd been before signing up; as the child he'd been back in Minnesota, slipped away until he was a man with no knowledge of himself at all. His feet continued to carry him forward through nothing more than the first law of motion: a moving object will continue to move until an outside force acts upon it.

The outside force rose up out of the mist like a giant warrior of old. A large black man in full battle dress with a sword to match and a fierce scowl on his face. The man in the mist automatically reached for his weapon and found a sharp dagger in his hand. He glanced at it curiously, it hadn't been there seconds before, but it was heavy and solid in his grasp. He moved his hand to send it hurtling through the air to cut down the enemy, but he didn't release the weapon. The warrior met his gaze without flinching and raised his weapon menacingly, and still the man hesitated. Here was danger, he could see it and taste it in the thin, early morning air. Yet here was friendship and loyalty, faithfulness and truth; it wasn't visible, but he knew it was there. He lowered his weapon. The warrior nodded his head and thrust out his sword: it was an outstretched hand of friendship before it reached him. The man who had been O'Neill grasped it like a lifeline, his mind tumbling in confusion. Then he was once again alone in the mist.

He stood rooted there his hand empty of weapon and friendship. Then he began to walk again though he didn't know why. The way before him was obscured by the mist, and he had no idea where he was going or if there was even any reason to be going. He walked for a long time and then he wasn't walking alone any longer. A beautiful, blond woman walked by his side. He glanced her way and she smiled at him. He knew that smile...a wave of contentment and joy washed over him like sunlight on a warm day. He thought he could walk forever as long as she walked alongside him. But, then another wave burst over him, one of great longing and sadness. The two emotions ebbed over him and through him mixing into deep waters in his soul, swirling about and nearly drowning him in their intensity.

The woman came to a stop and turned towards him. He realized she held a newborn child in her arms. "Will you carry her for me?" she asked him. He drew back in fear. The child was too small, too fragile. He thought she'd break in his big hands.

"Do you really trust me to hold her?" he asked with a voice he didn't recognize as his own.

"Always," she said as she carefully shifted the infant into his arms. He gazed into the perfect, little face and knew he held not just a child but the hope of all she would become...he held the future in his hands. Hands that had killed. Hands that were stained with the blood of the enemy and the blood of good men who'd fought beside him and bled out their life in his hands. The baby gazed unblinking into his eyes unaware she was not in good hands. He looked away to find the woman moving away from them, already almost lost in the fog.

"Wait. Where are you going?" he called after her.

She looked back over her shoulder and answered, "I have to keep walking. And so do you."

"But...but what about the baby?" he asked, but she was gone. He felt the loss like an ache through his whole body. The baby squirmed in his arms and began to fuss. He knew she was uncomfortable held against the stiffness of his bulletproof vest. He was afraid to lay her down even for the minute it would take to remove it; the mist might carry her away as well. He squatted with her and balanced her on his knees while he worked the vest off. He stripped off his field jacket as well. The baby snuggled against his soft, green undershirt. He shivered in the chill of the day but not because he was cold. He was vulnerable without the protection of his vest, exposed to the dangers of a world he did not know or understand.

Holding her tightly, he awkwardly struggled to stand up. The baby was tiny, no more than 7 or so pounds, yet his arms felt as though they would snap under her weight. He'd dropped his pack to take off the vest, and he eyed it with regret. He could not take it back up again and hope to carry the baby. He didn't have the strength for both. He fumbled through it for water, rations, and an extra undershirt to wrap the baby in if the blanket she wore wasn't enough in the damp. He also dropped what he could out of his belt. The p-90 on his shoulder, the pistol at his hip, the extra ammo, and the knife in his belt he kept. The baby was defenseless and totally dependent on him; he wouldn't leave his weapons behind. With resoluteness he moved forward into the mist.

The baby snuggled into the hollow of his neck. He could feel her small mouth nuzzling around on his neck. Her soft, round head in his hand filled him with an unaccustomed gentleness. He breathed in her new baby smell and knew he would do whatever it took to keep her safe and well.

The problem was he didn't know what it would take or if he could manage it. The baby's weight pressed heavily on him with each step, and he grew more and more afraid he'd drop her. He almost stumbled into a figure emerging from the fog right in front of him. The figure was a man, shorter, stouter, and older than he saw himself, with a bald head which glistened in the air's moisture. An aura of authority and power seemed to emanate from him, and the man who had been O'Neill instinctively drew up.

"Be careful, Colonel," the figure told him, his voice weighty and commanding.

"Yes, Sir," he heaved out in answer, straining against the heaviness of his burden. He waited expectantly for orders, but the figure stood silent before him.

"What should I do, Sir?" he finally asked.

The man raised an arm and pointed off into the mist, "Carry on, Colonel." The mist swallowed him up before he could answer, "Yes, Sir." He blinked into the emptiness. The baby mewed in his arms and he staggered on. The bald man had given him an identity, and he rolled it over and over again in his mind: Colonel. It held no meaning for him, but it seemed important to hold it tight.

The way seemed harder and harder. He stopped a moment, sipped the water, and ate part of the rations. He peered into the fog as though the answers of the universe were out there for him to see. But, it was a tall, lanky man who appeared out of it instead. His eyes were bright and blue, happily excited and dreadfully sad at the same time. There was a nervous energy and a deep weariness warring in the way he held his body, but he spoke cheerfully enough, "Hi, Jack. Where are you going?" The colonel rolled the name 'Jack' around in his mind. It rang no bells.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

"Then how will you know when you've arrived?" the man asked, his face alight with curiosity. The colonel merely shrugged. The man laughed, but when Jack didn't join him he grew serious. "Why don't you ask the Asgard? He's your safety net after all," he asked. He stepped close to Jack and laid his hand briefly on the baby's back. "She's beautiful," he said. "Don't drop her."

The colonel swallowed. "No," he said, "I won't." But the baby was the only one there to hear him. He moved off once again into the mist. He was almost at the end of his endurance. Twice he had stumbled to his knees and found it almost impossible to stand back up. The cold had eaten into his joints. His fingers and ears ached with it. The baby seemed unaffected. He'd wrapped his extra shirt over her blanket just in case, but cuddled against his chest even her little nose seemed warm. He thought he had been stumbling through the fog blind for hours if not days, but she'd never cried to be fed or changed.

He drank the last of his water and left the canteen behind, along with his p-90, handgun, and extra ammo. His hands were numb, and he didn't think he'd be able to fire a weapon if he needed to. He could barely stand, how could he fight off an attack if one came?

Fortunately, it wasn't an enemy that came out of the mist like a figment of his imagination. Without knowing how, he knew as soon as he saw the small, grey figure emerge that this was the Asgard the other had mentioned. His safety net. He looked at him hopefully. Maybe he had finally arrived wherever it was he was going. A slim, awkward body and large, black eyes in a misshapen, oversized head gave the Asgard the appearance of frailty, even weakness; but he knew that was wrong. It might appear easily broken, but it was anything but.

"Let me carry her. You are weak and tired, and I will not harm her," the Asgard told him. Relief flooded through him. His job was done. He raised her soft forehead to his lips and kissed her. Then he held her out to the alien. For a second, she lay between the two of them, looking at him with eyes full of trust. And reproach.

He pulled her close to him again and sadly shook his head to the offer. "I can't. I know you mean well, and I wish I could, but this is something I have to do myself. I can't let her go." Even he could hear the discouragement in his voice.

The Asgard inclined its too-large head at him. "Very well." It turned from him and began its journey into the mist.

"How much farther?" he asked desperately after it. "How will I know when I am there?"

The Asgard looked back over its shoulder at him, blinked its black eyes, and shrugged its long, skinny arms, "When you reach your destination, of course."

"When is that?" he asked, but not surprisingly, the Asgard was not there to answer. He let himself sag to the ground and cradled the baby on his lap. She made newborn noises, and he smiled at her. She looked at him with her wide, blue eyes, and he kissed her soft forehead again. She began to fuss and squirm. He knew she was trying to work up a cry. He had nothing to offer her, but his trembling arms and his determination.

"Just for a minute," he told her, "we'll rest just for a minute, and then we'll go on." But, she succeeded in working up a cry, a weak little sound at first which grew louder and more insistent the longer he sat. He forced himself up and began to walk. Her cries quieted as she nuzzled once more into his chest. "Ok," he said with resignation, "we'll keep moving." They stumbled on an indeterminate amount of time longer. Minutes, hours, or even days, he couldn't tell. He was numb to everything but the baby's nuzzling at the base of his neck which tickled and assured him she was still with him. His rations were long gone. Hunger and exhaustion wore on him, the cold ate through him, and the mist stretched unbroken before them.

Somewhere along the way, he began to understand: the baby wasn't a baby at all, but a manifestation of something else entirely. He didn't hold a living, breathing child in his arms. The little bundle wrapped in his undershirt wasn't what was weighing him down and crushing the very life out of him. When he looked into her blue eyes, he wasn't looking into the eyes of a child trusting him to meet her needs and protect her but at a responsibility he had a duty to fulfill. At some point, he thought he'd have an epiphany of sorts, then he'd know who he was and why he was there, and he would understand whatever he was supposed to be learning. He would understand what it was he had to struggle on for, what was so important he dare not do anything but see it through to the end.

The baby did not magically disappear from his arms when he reached his conclusion. She still nuzzled at his neck and made soft baby noises against his chest. Her head was still just as soft to his touch, and her smell just as sweet. He clutched her in his weary arms and though he knew so little, he did know she, or what she represented, was too precious to let slip from his arms. Whoever he was, it was his job to hold her/it close, and he would not fail in it.


	2. Chapter 2

The aliens turned as one and looked at SG-1. "It is done," they said.

"But, it's only been a minute at the most," Sam protested in surprise.

They shrugged in answer. "The mist lifts even now," they said. She turned and saw that indeed the fog was thinning.

"And?" Daniel prompted. They gave no reply. "Did he pass?" he asked again.

"See for yourselves," they answered as the mist thinned even more, and they could see O'Neill's upright form standing right where he had disappeared. He was looking down at something in his arms which even as they watched seemed to fade away with the mist. As they began to run towards him, they saw he'd lost his equipment, his jacket and Kevlar vest, and his weapons. He looked haggard and exhausted and had several days' growth on his beard, but he was alive. Before they could reach him, he slumped to the ground clutching, of all things, an army green T-shirt.

"Colonel!" Carter yelled and was echoed by the cries of her teammates: "Jack!" "O'Neill!" Hearing their calls, he recognized they'd given him back his name though it didn't seem at all familiar. As a man in a daze, he looked up at them. He did not know them. They were strangers, yet they were more familiar to him than his own name. He had met them before. In the mist.

"Are you all right, Sir?" the beautiful, blond woman asked him, and he gazed into her familiar, blue eyes and nodded. She smiled and her smile was like coming home.

Kneeling beside her, the questioning young man asked, "What happened?" He shrugged in reply. He had thought he'd know in the end, but the answers were just as cloudy in this bright sunshine as they had been in the fog. The stranger reached out and patted his shoulder, "It's all right" he said, "whatever happened you obviously passed the test."

"Yes, O'Neill, and we are pleased to have you back with us," the dark warrior loomed over him and thrust out his hand. O'Neill stared at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it. He was pulled to his feet where he swayed unsteadily but managed to stay upright.

He looked around. "So where's the other two?" he asked. His voice was dry and raspy, and the woman looked at him with concern and handed him her canteen. He nodded his thanks before taking a long swig.

"What other two?" she asked when he was finished.

"The bald one and the Asgard," he answered.

"The bald one!" Daniel sputtered, "Do you mean Hammond?" He shrugged in reply.

"Sir," the woman began hesitantly, "do you know us?" The question stumped him. Did he know them? Except for their names he knew them as well as he knew himself. He nodded his head a tentative 'yes'. "General Hammond and the Asgard haven't been here, Sir. Perhaps the mist..." she glanced off at the others who stood a short distance away.

"The mist does what the mist does," they answered together. "And it is never wrong. Your heart is true, Colonel O'Neill. We offer you our friendship and swear we will stand beside you should you need our services in the battle before you. You need only call us." They turned to the others, "You are free to go. You will find what we have to offer for your fight at the portal."

"Thank you," Carter told them. Their words seemed little return for whatever the colonel had been through, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was getting him home. Regardless of his answers to her, he did not appear fine, and he was clearly confused. The aliens turned as one and silently stalked off into the trees. She watched them until they disappeared and felt only relief they were gone. She should have insisted his belongings were returned to them, but she would rather deal with the repercussions of failing to do so than have to spend another minute in their company. "Let's go," she said to her teammates, and with the colonel staggering along between them they moved down the path towards the StarGate.

It soon became apparent he was in no shape to make the 2 kilometers to the Gate. They'd covered the same distance in less than twenty minutes not two hours before, but it wasn't happening now. The colonel had been silent the whole time. He didn't know what to say to these people, and he was too busy trying not to collapse. All those hours or days or whatever on his feet, and he'd almost cried when he'd finally seemed to come to the end of it, and now here he was going again. When the woman called a halt, he sank gratefully to the ground.

She squatted beside him, offering him water and food which he happily accepted. "Sir?" she asked hesitantly. Everything she said to him seemed to be tentative and gave him the uncomfortable feeling she was expecting something of him, but he didn't know what. He looked at her and waited for her to continue. She shook her head sadly and said, "You're pretty confused, aren't you?" He gave a half nod, half shrug in response. "What do you know, Sir? You said you know me, what's my name?" He met her eyes and then dropped his gaze.

"I don't know," he admitted and saw disappointment and fear pass quickly over her face. It hurt him to see it. He continued quickly, "But I know as long as you're walking beside me, life's good, and I know your smile makes me happy." Remembering his conclusion that the baby wasn't really a baby at all, he didn't add that he knew she had a sweet and beautiful baby girl, but even so he could tell his answer was not what she had expected. She tried to stammer something in return but then fell silent, her face red. She bit her lip and glanced to see if the others were listening. They were.

"OK," one of them said, "what about us? Do you know our names?"

"Not your names, but I know you. You are full of questions and the love of learning. Something makes you very sad, but you hide it behind curiosity and words. We don't laugh at the same things, but we want the same things."

"What things would that be?" Daniel asked him curiously.

He frowned at that. They'd both thought the baby was beautiful and needed to be kept safe. But though he felt her loss as a physical pain in his arms, there had never been a baby. Twice he opened his mouth to try to answer, but in the end he simply shrugged. Shrugging, he was finding, was an all-purpose answer that suited him very well.

"Well, what about Teal'c then?" Daniel asked, nodding towards the warrior.

"I know him, too," he answered. "He's a great warrior. He was an enemy and could easily have killed me, but instead he has given me his friendship and his loyalty. He will die at my side."

"Right," Daniel said after a moment of stunned silence. "So, you don't know us by name, but you recognize us anyway."

"Yes," he said, "I met you in the mist."

"You did?" Daniel asked at the same time Sam said, "We didn't go into the mist."

He looked at them both and shrugged. He was too tired to continue talking, and they must have seen it in his face.

The woman gave a resigned look and said, "Sir, it's really not that far to the Gate. We can wait here while you rest if you want, but I'd prefer to get you safely home. Teal'c could carry you?" Home. It was a word that should have meant something to him, but it didn't. "Sir?" she prompted, and he realized she was waiting for his answer. Did it matter, he wondered. Was there an urgency to get to this place he no longer remembered? Looking at their faces the only urgency he could read was their concern for him. If that was their only problem, they could wait. He needed rest much more than he needed anything else. Instead of answering he stretched out on his side and pulled his cap down over his eyes.

"Okay then, I guess we wait," he heard the woman say as he slipped easily into sleep. It seemed like he'd barely slept at all when she was shaking him awake. "Sir," she said, "night will be falling soon. We need to go on." He blinked up at the sky and saw the late afternoon shadows stretching around them. He sat up.

"What's your name?" he asked; sleep still audible in his voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I should have thought. I'm Carter...Daniel...Teal'c. We're your team members? From Earth?" There was no sign anything she was telling him meant a thing to him.

"Earth? That's home?" he asked as he pulled himself to a stand and looked around them somewhat anxiously.

"Earth's home, Jack," Daniel cut in. "And that," he said nodding into the trees, "is what you're looking for. We'll wait here." And they did while he made his way out of their sight and relieved himself. He returned flush with embarrassment, but the three of them seemed unconcerned.

"Ok, if the pace is too fast just let us know, Colonel," Carter told him. His bones still ached with weariness, but he managed to walk beside her and he felt stronger than before his nap. He glanced over at her, and she smiled. He stumbled, and she reached out a steadying hand. "Do you need to stop, Sir?"

"No, I'm fine," he answered and kept walking. After a moment he said, "We walked along like this in the mist, and you smiled just like that."

"Oh," she said then gave him a half smile, "well, we do this a lot..."

"Do we?" he asked wondering what it was they did a lot: walk? smile?

"Yes, we travel together from world to world. Most of the time on foot. We're explorers."

"We are?"

"You don't remember any of it, do you?" she asked with dismay.

"Not a thing," he said. "How do we walk from world to world?" he asked, confused.

"There's a transportation device...the StarGate?" she looked at him expectantly but the word meant nothing to him. "It's capable of forming a wormhole between two planets. We step into it and literally walk from one world to the next."

"And that's how we came here?"

"Yes, this morning. We met the natives. They seemed friendly, but then...they said one of us had to undergo the 'Trial by Mist' to prove if our hearts were true. If they were, we'd receive their friendship; if they wouldn't, we would die. We really weren't interested in their test, but we were outnumbered and..." she shrugged.

"I see," he said, though he didn't really. "So I got elected to be the one."

"No," she said, her voice hard and harsh. He glanced at her and saw she was not smiling. A look at Daniel behind them showed his face was set in an almost identical frown. Teal'c's broad back in front of him didn't reveal much, but he imagined he was frowning as well.

"But, I'm the one who went into the mist?"

"Yes, you were," she answered shortly.

"Because?" he prompted.

She stopped walking briefly to look him in the face. "Because you're our commanding officer. You thought-you always think it's your duty to put yourself in danger to protect us!" So, he thought. That explained why she put everything to him as a question. She wasn't comfortable giving him orders. But, it didn't explain her anger.

"Well, isn't that right?" he asked.

"I suppose so," she muttered starting off again. He moved to keep with her.

"But?"

"But, I don't like it. You'll die one of these days playing the hero and where will that leave us?"

"Hopefully alive," he answered. She snorted in disgust and shook her head. He looked back at Daniel.

Daniel grimaced and said, "Listen, Jack. I suppose technically it's right, but...well, it's not always wise. You had no business taking the Trial-any one of us would have been a wiser choice, but you wouldn't have it any other way!"

"Why?" he asked, still looking back and almost tripping over a rock in the path. He decided it was safer to drop back alongside Daniel for the moment. He found his anger easier to bear than Carter's anyway.

Daniel was at a loss at what to answer Jack. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and waited, hoping Jack would let it go.

He didn't. "Why would you, for example, have been a wiser choice than me?"

"Well, for one, this wasn't a test of physical strength. You didn't have to be stronger or quicker."

O'Neill, his body aching and bone-tired, felt the Trial had been all about physical testing, but he didn't have the energy to argue the point. He certainly didn't feel physically superior to any of his three companions. They were moving right along without breaking a sweat or breathing hard, while he was ready to lie down again. "Am I stronger and quicker?" Jack asked him doubtfully.

Daniel answered, "Normally...except for Teal'c, of course."

"Hmm," Jack said, "Maybe it wasn't necessary, but I can't see it would hurt. It still doesn't explain how that makes you a wiser choice."

"No, it doesn't, but here's the Gate. Let's go home."

O'Neill looked at the Gate curiously. Through its center opening he could see the first evening stars beginning to break through the darkening sky and more of the forest they were in. He watched as Daniel reached out his hand and pushed the pieces on the pedestal near it. The kawhoosh when the Gate opened sent him ducking for cover. He was relieved though embarrassed to see the others weren't concerned at all.

"Sorry, Sir," Carter told him, "I should have warned you."

"Yes, well, maybe you better fill me in on what's going to happen now...we're going to step into that...puddle and ?"

"It's not really water, Sir. We'll just step in and when we come through the other side, we'll be home. You might feel a bit sick on the other side, but it won't last long. There will be soldiers there with guns...they're on our side, you don't have to be afraid of them." She cringed when she realized what she'd said, but he didn't take offense. She went on, "We'll go to the infirmary right away and have the doctor check you out...see what they did to you. And the general will want to know what went on here."

"Ok. So what did go on here? Do you understand it any better than I do?" he asked.

"No, Sir," she admitted. She motioned to a pile of unfamiliar looking stuff at the base of the Gate and added, "But, whatever did, we've been given this stuff here. Do you mind carrying some of it?" He stared at her. "Sir?"

"You asked me to carry something for you in the mist, you know."

"No, what was it?" she asked frowning at him. If the natives had telepathic abilities, perhaps they also had the ability to see in the future. Maybe what he had seen in the mist was what was about to happen. She'd run a quick inspection of the alien equipment lying at the base of the Gate steps and everything had looked in order, but in her hurry to get the colonel home she was aware she might have been too hasty. "Was it...dangerous?"

"No," he answered. "It wasn't dangerous at all."

"But, it wasn't this stuff?" Daniel asked.

"No."

"Then what?"

"It doesn't matter, it wasn't really what it seemed like anyway. It was just a manifestation of something else."

"Such as?"

"Maybe this stuff," Sam said. "I hate to cut your discussion short, but we probably should talk about it on the other side. Before we have to open the Gate again." They gathered up the equipment and went home.


	3. Chapter 3

They'd stepped into the Gate with dusk falling around them amidst open air and trees, and they stepped out of it into the artificial light of a huge, concrete room. He blinked at its brightness and its unfamiliarity. He'd thought that arriving home would clear up his confusion, but apparently not.

"Welcome home, SG-1," a voice said from the air. Seeing him look around, Carter motioned towards an upper window where he could see people looking down on them.

"Thank you, Sir," she said. "Request permission to proceed immediately to the infirmary. We've a situation here."

"Granted. I'll meet you there," the voice answered, and he was propelled across the room, out the door, and through the halls.

The infirmary, he discovered, was another large, concrete room full of bright lights. This one, though, was lined with narrow beds. A short woman in a white jacket directed him to one of them, and he sat on its edge. Carter, Daniel, and Teal'c stood off to the side and watched him with worried eyes. "What have we got?" the woman said at the same time the bald man from the mist entered the room and asked, "What's the situation?"

Carter took a long breath and began to answer. "The natives on p3C-836 weren't quite as friendly as they appeared, Sir. They demanded that one of us take what they called a 'Trial by Mist'. This fog descended on the colonel...to us it wasn't there longer than a minute or two, but when it lifted the colonel was exhausted like he'd been through an ordeal of several days...you can see he even has a few days' worth of beard."

"So, we're looking at exhaustion then?" the woman he assumed was the doctor asked.

"Well, that though he slept a good part of the day and seems to be the better for it, but there's something more," she bit her lip in a manner he had come to realize meant she wasn't quite sure how to proceed, and then she went on, "The colonel doesn't remember...well, he seems to remember us, but not our names or anything else really." The doctor and the general looked at him and he shrugged apologetically.

"OK," the doctor said, "let's take a look." For the next couple of hours, he answered numerous questions: Did his head hurt? No. Did he have any dizziness or vertigo? No. Was he injured anywhere? And on and on. He also underwent several tests. He didn't understand what the machines did but apparently they were able to see into his brain and the rest of his body, as well...at least that's what the doctor, Frasier he'd learned, told him. He also had given up several vials of blood for testing. The whole process left him exhausted, and, from what he could gather, didn't shed any light on his problem at all. Finally, the doctor and her minions left him to curl up on his narrow bed and try to sleep.

The others had been in and out. He gathered Carter was needed to figure out just what the stuff they'd brought back through the Gate with them was. She'd left him reluctantly early on and hadn't returned. Daniel had been called away to see if he could translate something for her several times but always wandered back in. Teal'c had stood close by the whole time. O'Neill was glad for his presence. The general he recognized from the mist, of course, but nothing else was the least bit familiar. He felt almost as vulnerable as he had there. Just as confused, too. And just as responsible. These people expected things of him. Things he didn't know how to give them.

"Colonel O'Neill," Teal'c addressed him, "do not be concerned at your memory loss. I am certain you will remember in time."

"What makes you think that?" he mumbled, but he was already asleep if the warrior answered. When he awoke, he could tell from the quietness all around him night had finally arrived even in this place of concrete. Carter was dozing in a chair beside him, and Daniel was sprawled on top of the bed beside his. Teal'c was for the first time nowhere in sight. He watched them quietly wondering why it was he trusted what he'd seen of them in the mist. If the baby wasn't what she had seemed, than should he trust that these were? He was at their mercy; they could tell him whatever they wanted. He'd never know they were deceiving him. Twice now he'd slept without fear in their presence, what made him believe they wouldn't kill him in his sleep?

From the beginning, he'd accepted his knowledge of them. It made him uncomfortable to doubt them now. But for a moment, he did. Then Carter lifted her head and saw him awake. Her smile at seeing him wiped away his distrust. What was it about her smile, he wondered, that could make him feel so content and pleased with life? He drew in a surprised gasp of air when the answer hit him.

"Sir?" she asked him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly not wanting to disturb Daniel.

"Tell you what, Sir?"

"About us." He watched his words hit her like a solid blow and too late remembered the feelings of longing and sorrow that had been intertwined with his joy in walking with her. He saw the distance she'd left between her chair and the side of his bed and understood things were not as simple as her smile had made him believe. He watched her take a deep breath, bite her lip, and blink away the tears forming in her eyes. There was nothing he could do to call back his words, and he wasn't sure he wanted to anyway.

"I...I uh...I'm not sure what you mean," she finally stammered out.

"I think you are," he answered.

"Maybe you're confused," she said.

"Am I?" he asked. He didn't believe it.

At the best of times, she was a lousy liar and caught here with cameras blinking down on them totally unprepared she was at a loss of what to say. "We're uh... we're in the same chain of command, you know, Sir, and uh...if...well...um, it would be impossible um for us..."

"Oh," he said as if he understood, but he didn't. Chain of command or not, it was definitely not impossible for him to be in love with her. And her reaction to his words made him think she felt the same for him. Apparently, though, it could make them keep a safe distance between themselves and only say what they felt with a smile. He wondered if anyone could really be fooled. "Sorry," he said, "things are still pretty mixed up for me."

She nodded, "Yes, Sir." An awkward silence filled the room. Daniel rolled over on his bed, and it squeaked. Footsteps sounded in the hallway and faded away. Somewhere even farther away, someone laughed. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He knew before she ever spoke that she'd suddenly remembered some work she should be doing. He nodded and let her go. What a fool he must be, he decided. Not only the man he had been, but the man he was now.

He rolled over and saw Daniel was awake.

Daniel gave him a sad smile. "She'll be all right," he said.

"You were awake then?"

"Yeah...it's just not as easy as what it seems like it should be. It's... complicated."

"Why is that?"

"Rules. Regulations."

"And we can't get away from them?"

"Not if you want to do your jobs."

"What's so important about walking from one world to the next?" he snorted.

"It's more than that. We're explorers, and there's a lot we've learned from that. But, we're not just out there for the fun of it. Sam and I probably would be if...but you and Teal'c...

"What?" he asked.

"We're at war...we need allies, weapons, whatever we can find to fight with. That's what we're out there for. A lot more is at stake than just checking out the neighborhood."

"Enough to keep us within the regulations?"

"Well, yes, I guess so."

"What would happen if we quit?" he asked.

"I don't know," Daniel said, shaking his head. "Earth isn't a match for the Goa'uld."

"The Goa'uld?"

"Our enemy. They're parasitical beings who prey on humans as hosts and enslave them by acting as gods. They control numerous worlds and have advanced weapons and technology. The only reason they haven't destroyed us already is because you found the Asgard."

"I met it in the mist. It wanted to help, but it was something I had to do on my own."

Daniel looked at him oddly, "Um...actually there are a lot of Asgard, Jack. Not just one. But, yeah, they can only do so much. They have their own problems and war to fight. We can't depend on them to save us." O'Neill nodded. He'd got that. "What was it you had to do?" Daniel asked him.

He shrugged. "I wish I knew...something important. The more you talk, the more I figure it's probably what you're talking about. It sounds pretty important."

"It's important, all right," Daniel asserted.

"Important enough to keep doing regardless of the cost? Regardless of..." he trailed off. "It's really that important, you think?"

"I do."

"I won't be able to do it though, will I? Not like this?" he asked.

"I doubt it, but give the doctors some time. And yourself, too...it could be the effects will just wear off."

"I keep expecting to suddenly remember myself, you know?" Daniel gave him a sympathetic look but couldn't promise him it would happen. "Tell me why I was the worst possible one for that test, Daniel. Who was I that you think I should have let someone else do it instead?" he asked.

"Oh. I was hoping you forgot," Daniel said with an embarrassed grin.

"Nope, that I remember!"

"The natives said it would test if our hearts were true. Whatever that meant. And you...you're not the most open man in the world. You've made a lot of choices and done a lot of things that I don't think you like. You obviously think they were necessary, but you don't approve of them. You keep it all hidden under this mask you show us, but it's all there underneath. Outside you usually play either this arrogant, hard-nosed colonel or a sarcastic, smart-aleck, but it's all just an act. Underneath...I don't think you even know what you are inside. And it just didn't seem wise to find out on an alien planet without any backup, if you know what I mean."

"You don't like me very well then," he said. Funny, he hadn't thought that at all. He had thought they were friends, and the rejection hurt more than he would have expected considering Daniel was essentially a stranger.

"Actually," Daniel said with a grin, "I like you a lot. You drive me crazy sometimes, but...you've been there when I've needed you. You're a good friend, and as the military guys say, 'It's an honor serving with you.' You're the best we've got out there, Jack." O'Neill heard the sincerity in his words and was embarrassed by it but also gratified. Maybe the man he had been wasn't quite as bad as he'd started to fear.

"It doesn't sound like I'm the kind of man she'd...but she does right? I'm not just imagining it, am I?"

"We've never...well, she's not likely to discuss it with me! But, I think it's safe to say she does."

"Even if I'm an arrogant and sarcastic so and so?"

"No accounting for taste," Daniel said. O'Neill threw his pillow at him.

"Speaking of taste, I'm hungry...can we get something to eat around here?"

"Let me see if Janet is around...she'd hunt us down if you leave without checking with her." Yawning, Daniel climbed out of his bed and wondered out of the room. O'Neill sat on the side of his bed and waited. It wasn't long before he was back with the doctor.

"So, you're feeling rested?" Frasier asked him.

"Well, my arms and back are still stiff, but yeah, I'm feeling pretty good."

"You're not remembering any more than before though?"

He blinked at her. He'd remembered the one thing...or understood it anyway, but he didn't think he ought to share it with her. "I'm hungry," he answered evasively.

"Really...for anything in particular?"

"No, should I be?"

"Well, memory is a funny thing. It might come back in small ways first. I was hoping if you were hungry for a food we knew you particularly liked, it might indicate your memory was coming back."

"Oh. No, I'm not hungry for anything special...maybe just a piece of cake or something." Janet and Daniel both looked at him, and he asked, "What?"

"Nothing, Colonel. Go ahead and get some food. Then Daniel can show you to your quarters. There's really no need for you to be here."

"All right," he said, hopping off his bed. "Thanks, Doc." He and Daniel walked in companionable silence to the mess hall. He picked a large piece of cake and took a cup of coffee. Flicking a speck of dust off the top of it, he asked Daniel the question he'd been wondering about for a while, "Why are you so sad, Daniel? Is it the war?"

"I'm not sad, Jack," Daniel assured him.

"Yes, you are."

"Why would you say that?" he asked curiously.

"I saw it in the mist. You acted cheerful and happy, but you were really sad."

Daniel looked beyond him and answered, "I have a wife, Jack. The Goa'uld took her...she's one of them now. I...miss her, I want to find her and bring her back. That's why I'm part of SG-1. The war's pretty personal to me."

"Oh," Jack said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. Eat your cake." Daniel hoped the conversation was over. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what else Jack had learned about him in the mist. But, then again, he did wonder about the others. "What was Sam like there?"

"Beautiful," Jack answered, smiling around the huge bite of cake he'd just shoveled into his mouth. "She was pretty much the same as she is here...maybe she would have been the wisest choice for the test."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you and Teal'c were two things at once...you were happy and sad; he was an enemy and a friend. Carter was just Carter."

"So you figure the test would have been simpler for her because she isn't hiding anything from anyone?"

"Something like that. You don't?"

"I might be wrong, but I think she hides one thing from herself all the time," Daniel answered him pointedly.

"Think so?"

"Yeah, I do. I mean the war may never be won. You two may never have a chance. If she has to face that all the time...well, I just don't think she admits it to herself."

"Maybe. But it didn't show up as a problem in the mist."

"She denied it to you here."

"She did that," he admitted reluctantly.

"What about you? Who were you in the mist?"

"Nobody...I was just walking along."

"So the whole time you were in there, which was obviously longer for you than it was for us, you were just walking?"

"Basically. I'd meet folks every once in a while who just seemed to tell me to keep going."

"Except Sam. She asked you to carry something you said."

"She told me I had to keep walking, too."

"What did she ask you to carry?"

"I don't know...I'm thinking the future. If we're in this big battle, and we have to keep trying to find ways to win it, maybe those aliens just wanted to know if I thought the effort was worth it, you know? If I thought the future was worth the trouble."

"Which you did," Daniel said.

"Yeah, I did," he answered.

"What did the future look like in the mist?"

"A baby. Carter asked me to carry her baby...at least I assumed it was her baby. Only it wasn't a baby. Not really." He closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotions he felt thinking about her. He could still feel her weight in his arms and smell her smell. He missed her. "The longer we went on the heavier she got. Carrying her was like carrying a load of weapons' grade naquada. Only she felt a lot sweeter and smelled a lot better, too."

"Jack, what do you know about weapons' grade naquada?" Daniel asked quietly.

"Huh? Weapons grade what?"

"Naquada? You said carrying the baby was like carrying weapons' grade naquada."

"I did?"

"You did."

"I don't even know what it is...what should I know about it?"

"It's extremely heavy...and we've ran in to it on our little jaunts to other worlds. I can't imagine how you'd know anything about it unless your memory is starting to come back."

"I wish," he said.

"Well, I can tell you sitting here watching you pick nonexistent specks of dust out of your coffee and shovel in cake like you haven't eaten in a week is not something I haven't done plenty of times before...like just about every night we get stuck on base."

"Really?"

"Really. I think you're a lot more back than you realize...give it some time."

"What else can I do?" he asked wearily.

"Well, as a last resort we can return to the planet and see what the natives have to say. But not tonight. We might as well get some more rest if you're done with your cake."

And it was as simple as that. He went to bed as a man who knew next to nothing about himself and woke up as Colonel Jack O'Neill of the SGC, a man who knew more than he wanted to about himself. Daniel was snoring in the opposite bunk. Teal'c would be coming out of kelnareem. Carter would no doubt have spent the night working on whatever it was they'd brought back with them from p3C-836, hiding from him and whatever else he might ask her that was better left unsaid.

In a minute, he would get up and drag Daniel out of bed. Together they'd drop by and pick up Teal'c and then haul Carter out of her lab for breakfast. She'd be quiet and awkward at first, but by the time they'd finished the meal, she'd be babbling on about what she was discovering or grumbling because she couldn't figure out what she was looking at. In a few days, as soon as he was cleared for duty and they could coerce Carter away from her new toys, they'd walk through the StarGate onto some new world again...because the future was precious and they couldn't let it go without a fight.

-The fog comes on little cat feet...Carl Sandburg-

 _Either my document dropped a good number of commas somewhere through the years, or I was particularly stingy with them in writing this. I'm suffering from a severe case of spring fever, and my need to be out in the garden is much stronger than my writer's vanity making me want to take the time to reedit this before posting it on FanFic. If I don't keep posting now that I've begun, it could be years before I start again if ever, so I'm leaving it as is. My apologies._


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